What the Snitch and Pitch Decide
by Talon McGreggor
Summary: Quidditch brings people together in the funniest of ways. Chp 5 up!
1. The Pitch

What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 1-- The Pitch

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I'm not getting any money for writing this or posting it. As someone else once said in a disclaimer, I'm simply taking them off the shelf to play with, then putting them nicely back.

"And they're off! The quaffle goes to Gryffindor as Johnson races toward the goal...Beautiful pass to Bell. Katie's going, going! Oh! Bludger to the arm; that's gotta hurt! It's Slytherin captain Montague, down the pitch. Common' guys get in there!"

Lee Jordan took only a second to gasp a breath. "Yes! And a nice bludger aimed by Fred Weasley. Seekers still circling; doesn't look like they've found much. The dropped quaffle's intercepted by Johnson. Johnson racing down...Good move!" he yelled. She'd dodged the bludger, never losing speed. Crabbe sneered and veered off another course. His head raced and heart leaped to keep up with his tongue. "Slytherin keeper's ready to block! And, and, YES! GOAL! Ten points Gryffindor, first point of the game." Lee moved away from the mic. He'd never had trouble keeping up before. Maybe he was getting slow. Nah, that couldn't be it. The games were getting more intense. By far.

"Montague's got it again. Boy's he fast, common' someone give 'im a bludger!" He got away with the comment without the usually warning from McGonagall. "Where're the beaters?!? Bell and Johnson racing to intercept, and damn don't she look good?" This earned the glare.

"Jordan!"

"Sorry, ma'am," and he continued unphased. "Montague's aiming, it's thrown, and by god! Weasley's caught it! Nice save, man." Jordan's eyes raced around the pitch, finding the action the crowds wanted highlighted. "Looks like they're seen the snitch! Malfoy's flying toward his goal posts, looped around them. Potter's hot on his tail. It's a race to the death, folks. They're in a dive."

Draco was ahead of Harry by at least one broom; Harry working hard to close that difference. They could both see the snitch in front of them. Sunlight shone brilliantly off its polished sides. The distance finally closed and both extended their arms.

"They're in for it. They'd better get it! Come on, Harry!" Lee's voice boomed around them.

The snitch, which had danced in the daylight ahead of them quit its teasing and shot up vertically, a foot and a half from the ground. Harry and Draco were each engaged in blood curdling dives. Harry shut his eyes now, bracing himself for the worst. The adversaries hit the ground. Hard. Malfoy landed on his wrist, which made a loud crunch from the impact. Madame Hooch groaned. He wouldn't be happy. Harry luckily rolled onto his shoulder. The second his feet felt the ground he pushed off.

His glasses were hanging precariously on the tip of his nose and he willed the broom faster, afraid they'd fall off at any moment. The wind whipped his hair and stung his eyes, but he was with the snitch. The damn gold ball continued its upward path. Up. Up. Up.

Harry felt his ears pop. How far up was he? An eye on the snitch, he saw every move. It veered to the right. It was now or never. Before knowing if it was commited to the move, The-Boy-Who-Lived swept off to the right, extended his left hand and...

"HE'S GOT IT! HE'S GOT THE SNITCH! Gryffindor beats Slytherin, first match of the year!" The cheering rose up like a cacophony.

***

Lee Jordan walked most wearily back to the castle. 'What. A. Game.' was all that could go through his mind. It'd be so nice if he could get some help up there. Not for the commentary; oh no, no one'd match his wit. Just a reliable person to point him to the action. No doubt about it, if this game was any kind of omen, he'd need a second set of eyes.

"Mister Jordan," addressed the sharp voice behind him. He turned as Professor McGonagall strode meaningfully towards him.

"Professor," he nodded.

Minerva let slip a small smile as they kept pace down the lawn. "A wonderful game today," she reminicsed. 

Lee smiled, nodded, then let out a huge yawn. You try being that damn energetic.

"You're in need of more sleep, Mister Jordan."

"No, I've been getting sleep, ma'am."

"Is ought amiss?"

Lee paused. It might sound, well, weak of him if he asked for help up there. But he imagined the games could only get worse from here. What a year.

"Professor, I'd like to ask you something." Slight hesitation. McGonagall looked for him to go on. "I've been doing this for a while now. But you've seen it out there," he gestured to the quidditch pitch. It's worse than Njal's Saga with all that brutality. There's too much action. I need a helping hand to point me to it." His voice almost sounded pleading.

"There's no need for excuses, Jordan, I've been watching the game." The aging witch stared at her pupil intensely. "I will find a partner, if you'd like. Someone reliable, with a good eye for detail."

Jordan smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Professor." McGonagall nodded. In a moment she turned on her heal and was off to a group of nattering coleagues.

The castle doors loomed ahead of them. All he wanted was a nice warm shower and a good meal. A rowdy group made up of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and a few Ravenclaws made way to be first in the castle. Hoisted upon their shoulders were Harry and Ron. Littered behind them the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team made a processional into the great hall. Every one of them was on the shoulders of cheering students. Victory felt great.

***

A fire cackled plesantly in the hearth. Warm students lounged in over-stuffed scarlet chairs, content with the hot meal the kitchens had provided. A few here and there were completing assignments due the next day, but most neglected their homework. No need to spoil a perfect day.

Hermione Granger lay half asleep on a chair. A loud 'pop' from the fire had brought her away from the cradled arms of Morpheus. She was so close too...

Another pop. She was fully awake now and looked up at the clock above the mantle, a little dismayed she'd nearly slept not in her bed. That wouldn't do.

Stretching, she bade good night to Harry and Ron who were definitely not asleep, and followed two third years up to the girl's dormitories. Half way there, Professor McGonagall called to her.

"Yes, Professor?"

"May I speak to you privately, Miss Granger?" Hermione nodded and quickly masked her fatigue with polite curiousity. Arriving in McGonagall's private office (located off a hallway in the common room), she motioned Hermione into a chair, then took a seat behind the desk.

Cutting right to the chase, she said, "Lee Jordan requests help in the commentary booth during quidditch matches."

Hermione quirked a single brow. "He requested me?"

"No, I told him I would chose a partner." The girl in front of her nodded in comprehension. "He needs a reliable person who won't step out of bounds, not get in his way of speeking. A person with an eye for detail who can easily point him to what needs to be said."

Hermione looked at her teacher. This was a nice surprise. And she could defnitely be more in the action. Too, it'd be nice to do something during the game since she didn't have Ron to watch it with her anymore.

"I'd like that, ma'am." The two Gryffindors smiled at each other. In a moment they rose from the chairs and were at the door.

"You should probably meet him half an hour before the next game. You know where the booth is."

Hermione smiled sweetly and agreed.

***

Draco sneered up at the ceiling. The room stunk. It always stunk. The bloody house elves could wash it and everything in it from now until eternity and would never get that certain...hospital smell from the walls and floor and beds. And thanks to good for nothing Potter, he lay in the reeking bed with a broken wrist. Probably won't even be able to play in the next quidditch match.

'Yes,' he thought, 'this occasion needs some special form of revenge. Something good...' Maybe he could set up Potter to cheat in Potions. Snape would love that. Quietly, the blond Slytherin boy drifted off; vowing, plotting, and carrying out revenge even in his sleep.

((A/N: So what does everyone think? Wow, I'm tired, so I apologize for any typos that I may miss. This is my first shot at a Hermione/Draco and I've only read one attempt at it. More's on the way, I promise; the synopsis is already finished. Hopefully I'll bring you guys something new. And, *hark* I think I've found my muse! Of course, I don't quite know who it is, but I'll update anyone who cares about that later. Please review!

`Talon))


	2. They Collaborate

What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 2-- They Collaborate

Disclaimer: Sorry for my laziness. This can be found in the beginning of chapter one.

"That is so unfair!"

Harry scowled. "Yah, Ron. I know."

"Snape can't do that to you! You weren't cheating!" Hermione clutched her books tighter to her chest in an attempt to cool her anger. The trio walked swiftly down the hall, out of the dungeons and away from their dreaded Potions classroom.

"The only reason he thought you were cheating is because of that horrible Malfoy," she continued. "That boy has something coming to him. One day he'll meet someone much more powerful, and no one will be there to back him up!"

A look of realization briefly lit up Ron's be-freckled face. "You know, I bet he was angry because you beat him to the snitch!"

"Just like a boy," Hermione spat. Then, prompted by a glare from her two friends, added, "And just like a Malfoy."

Ron continued, "Least he got his wrist mangled. That was worth it." The two boys smiled.

A little ways down the hall, a snide remark hit them full in the face.

"Pity poor little Potter boy won't be able to practice all week," Malfoy make a small, mocking moue with his mouth. "He'll be stuck in detention the whole time for cheating." His eyes met Harry's in a challenge.

Harry's sneer could easily rival Snape's. "Malfoy, why don't you crawl back under that rock you came out from and stay there. Do the world a favor."

"But then I wouldn't be able to beat Ravenclaw in this weekend's quidditch game. Hmm, and you won't even be there to watch."

Harry spat on the ground in reply, narrowly missing Draco's shoe. The two boys looked like they'd be at each other any minute. Hermione placed a staying hand on her friends' arms.

"Listen to your Mudblood girlfriend, at least she knows better than to tangle with her superiors." He strode gracefully away. Harry and Ron simultaneously jolted to sprint after the ugly git, but Hermione skillfully yanked them back by the neck of their robes.

"He's not worth it. Harry, you've already a week's detention. You don't need any more."

"Ooh, one day he'll get it." Ron's ears we crimson. Harry turned sharply on his heel and strode away.

Hermione turned to Ron, "Yes, I'm sure one day he will."

***

"Heard about Harry's detention," Lee said. Hermione had arrived in the commentator's booth exactly thirty minutes before game time. "Shame he can't see the match."

"Does he want to?"

Lee shrugged. "At least he'd be able to watch Slytherin play. Pick up strategies."

"Slytherin's favored to win," she replied, monotone. Her eyes darted around the empty quidditch pitch. A few early students littered the stands.

"Favored. That doesn't mean they will. Anyway, I just need you to point out anything interesting. A well aimed bludger, a Ravenclaw player strategically placed by the goal that Slytherin hadn't notice, and especially any irregular movements of the Seekers."

"I just point?" This really _was_ easy.

Lee nodded. "Just point." She shrugged. They eased down into what resembled Muggle lawn-chairs. Lee opened a deep desk-drawer and pulled out two butterbeers. He tossed one to Hermione. She smiled and they waited for the game to begin.

***

"They're off! Montague's got the quaffle. Oh, damn, it doesn't look good. Yes! Hit by a bludger!"

Hermione's eyes raced in her head. 'Something interesting…something interesting….'

Meanwhile, Lee continued, "Quaffle's picked up by team captain, Davies, and makes a beeline for the goal. Quick pass to Bradley. Nicely done!" A bludger was avoided. A Ravenclaw took the opportunity to strike it at the opposing beater. It hit him square in the chest.

"Now that's a beautiful hit, guys! Bradley's still going for the goal- can he make it?" A second later, then amongst the cheering, "Yes! Yes he can! Ravenclaw up ten nothing."

Hermione could see the Slytherins scowling. What kind of job did she have? Lee covered everything. She wasn't neede---

"Lee," she hissed, and pointed to the two Seekers.

He stopped his commentary on the bludger battle. "Wow, the seekers are at it again! They're in a dive--uh--no--they're out of it. They're zig-zagging across the pitch. What in the world? Never seen this before."

Cho Chang and Malfoy were indeed weaving in and out of each other's wakes. The snitch moved left, right; further right, then directly left. Their heads spun. Where would it be next? It moved up and right, then down and left. In the confusion, Cho followed it up. Malfoy, obviously slower, saw the down motion first and went for it. His broom hit the end of Cho's and she went flying. 

Hermione gasped. "Lee look!" A bit too loud…oh well.

Lee followed her finger, having abandoned the seeker's game to highlight the chaser's. "Whoah! Is Cho okay?" 

Cho Chang barely had a grip on her broom. It had stopped , but the force had knocked her off. She was hanging and trying to swing herself back on. 

"What did Malfoy do?" 

"'Mione!" It was Lee's turn to hiss. "Keep your voice down!." Her face turned bright pink. Maybe this job was a tad bit more challenging. Lee turned back to the game. Right in time to make the final announcement, "And, shoving Chang out of the way, he's grabbed the snitch. Slytherin wins!"

He turned the mic off.

"You sounded excited."

"It's false. I have to be fair to all the houses."

"McGonagall's rules?"

Lee nodded.

***

The great hall wasn't too perky that night. All but the Slytherins were a bit miffed that they won. The Slytherin table was full of congratulations and menacing threats of what they'll do to the next team they play.

"So what happened?" Harry asked over a plate of mashed potatoes and turkey. He'd had to carry out his last detention with Snape.

"Malfoy completely sent Cho flying to get the snitch. She nearly fell off her broom," Hermione replied.

Harry's eyes hardened.

"It was awful," added Ginny.

"Totally," Ron confirmed.

"The biggest sort of foul pl--"

"All right!" Harry interrupted. "I got it!" He looked down to his plate. Suddenly his appetite had vanished. All his thoughts were on Cho. "Let's just go up now."

"But 'arry," Ron objected through a mouth of peas, "we' 'ardly eaten anyzh--" Hermione jabbed him in the stomach. Boys never noticed anything. Or maybe the trait was unique to Ron.

"Let's go," she agreed.

All but Harry stuffed a last forkful of something in their mouths before exiting the hall. The corridors were dark and the candles cast flickering shadows. There was something magical about Hogwarts. Not just that it housed so many witches and wizards. No…it was something more. Something in the air.

Hermione pondered just that before abruptly meeting the wall with her backside.

"Granger…" Well, it wasn't Snape. Must be…

"Malfoy," she greeted more with more civility than the occasion called for.

"Hey, Malfoy, why don't you and I have a natter outside. Alone?" Harry issued the challenge. Draco turned his sneering face to the Gryffindor boy. 

"Because my quarry's with the Mudblood here."

"What the bloody---?" Ron's ears were visibly red even in the shadows.

"Yah," Draco turned back to Hermione, still pinned to the wall, "with you." He let her up so he could pace in front of her. "You made me look bad out there."

"Me? How? I said nothing!"

"Every eye out there was on me because of you." That was at least true.

"Lee was the one who made the remark!" Ron yelled.

"And who's the one who made 'im look?" retorted Malfoy.

"It's not my fault you foul play every other seeker on the house teams!" Hermione got back into the argument.

"Every other player does it, Mudblood. Everyone does it!" He spoke to her like she was a daft child. "But when I do it suddenly it's foul play."

"You know what I think?" she countered boldly, "I think it's all in your head. You're trying to blame someone for your bad boy Slytherin reputation. That's no one's fault but your own."

"You're blind, Granger."

"Is that all you can say because you know she's right?" Malfoy turned meaningfully to Harry, faked a lunge intended to scare him, and walked away. After a moment's silence, 

"You got 'im that time, 'Mione."

"Thanks, Ron."

"Yup."

"You okay?"

"Yes, Harry. I'm fine. Let's go up." They continued the trek to the common room.

((A/N: Whoo, for a while I was stuck in the first scene. Seemed to turn out ok though. Big thanks to violentdelight-- the first to review the fic! Means a lot. Also a thank you to Stef, who read it also and reviewed another of my works. ::smiles:: I apologize for any Ravenclaw team-mate names that are wrong at this point. I didn't know any other than Cho who played in Harry's fifth year, so I might've used some old ones. Thanks for reading this far, and chap 3's not far off.

`Talon))


	3. Negotiations

What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 3-- Negotiations

Disclaimer: Is located in chapter one. And again, sorry for any Quidditch players names I may screw up.

After a relaxing evening of Wizard's chess and homework, Hermione lay on her bed deep in thought. Something about today perplexed her. Why did Draco care if everyone thought he'd captured the snitch by foul play? Wasn't that what being a Slytherin was about? Achieving your own ends no matter what?

She rolled onto her side, confused by this puzzle. He was still an arrogant snob. She smiled. A typical Slytherin. But was he a snob with a conscience?

***

The next weekend found the quidditch pitch bathed in sunlight. A perfect day for quidditch, the teams would all say. Today's match was Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff and everyone was excited. Gryffindor was favored to win.

Up in the commentator's box, Hermione and Lee settled down with a butterbeer as they watched the crowds of students fill in the empty stands. 

"To Gryffindor?"

"To Gryffindor." They clinked bottles. A minute later Madame Hooch blew her whistle. Lee gulped and took a quick breath.

"They're in the air! Oh! And Smith has the quaffle. He's throwing a pass to--uh, nope! Sorry, Smith. It's intercepted by Spinnet who's moving down the field. Keeper's looking for the shot…And he's got it! Sorry, 'Licia. Next time, girl. It's thrown back to Smith who seems to be dodging bludgers right and left."

Hermione tapped him on the arm and pointed up.

"Fred Weasley's taking aim, and--" A sickening 'smack' seemed to reverberate throughout the stadium. "it solidly hit Smith. Quaffle's falling, and it's caught by Bell. Bell back-passes to Johnson. Captain Angelina Johnson's going down the pitch, flanked by both chasers Bell and Spinnet. Look out! They're gonna get it this time!"

Hermione _again_ shook Lee's arm and pointed to the left.

"A bludger takes out Spinnet. Ouch. One down, two to go, Hufflepuff."

The action seemed to be swirling around her. Lee was right--he did need help. 

'Look for the seekers. Where are the seekers?' 

"Harry!" She couldn't just keep mutely pointing. Lee turned and glared. Oops.

"Potter looks to be on to something. Is he charging the keeper? Oh--no--he's turned. Headed straight for a bludger! Good duck!"

Hermione caught sight of Katie's long braid flowing behind her as she flew full speed to the Hufflepuff goals. "Bell's going for a goal…" It was meant to alert Lee, but she just couldn't keep her voice down. A bludger flew at her, but… "It missed her," Hermione let slip again. Ugh. A large figure advanced quickly upon the chaser. "Oh no…!"

Finally Lee joined in, "Ouch!" The beater slammed right into Katie. Whether he was chasing down the bludger or had meant to hit her was unclear. 

With great spunk, Lee announced, "Ooh. That looks like something Malfoy'd do!" The crowd heard a brief muffled laugh that wasn't Jordan's. Lee resumed his scanning of the field. "Potter's still on that thing's tail. It's definitely running him through the courses."

On the field Harry thought this was the most challenging game he'd played. The Hufflepuff seeker was way behind, but the snitch was faster than lightning today. Another Hufflepuff team-mate make Harry's observation, and sent a bludger flying his way. He thought he'd been just quick enough to miss it, but it made contact with the end of the broom and Harry was flown into a spiral. The opposing seeker caught up.

'Damn bludger…'

"And he's caught up to Potter. They're neck to neck. Can Harry pull out o' the race??"

The snitch dived. It always seemed to dive. Why was that? Harry dived with it. Good thing he was skilled at this. Before the gold ball was within fifteen feet of the ground, it was struggling in Harry's hand. A few 'aaaawws' were audible from the Hufflepuffs and a few sympathetic Ravenclaws. Other than that the crowd went wild. Harry took a victory lap, snitch in hand, before returning to the ground.

"And it's another victory for Gryffindor! Good thing Slytherin wasn't playing." Everyone got the joke.

***

Throughout dinner something nagged at the back of Draco's mind. Quidditch. The quidditch game. He threw down his fork in disgust that the bloody game would keep bothering him and couldn't hold back a sneer as Crabbe and Goyle guffawed at some crude joke. They were so annoying. Neither could think for themselves. He put two fingers to his temple. Mayhap he'd retire sooner than later. The Gryffindor table wouldn't shut up. Neither would the Ravenclaws. They just couldn't stop cheering. And that comment…Jordan's stupid comment…

"Bloody hell!" he snarled. Crabbe and Goyle looked at their friend in shock but Draco turned away from their stupid faces and walked from the hall.

Hermione looked up from her meal to see an unmistakable blonde head disappear behind the closing door. 

"What's up with Malfoy?"

Ron finished laughing at a bawdy joke. "Who cares?"

"Maybe he's finally getting what he had coming," offered Harry. He was laughing too. Hermione's brow furrowed but spoke no more of it. No need to dwell on Slytherins when celebration called.

***

The wonderful thing about living in the dungeons was that you could never be bothered by the wind. Or sunlight.

'Why don't you crawl back under that rock you came out from and stay there?' He sneered as Potter's voice shoved its way into his thoughts. The glory boy. And his glory-friends. Against his volition, Hermione popped into his mind. Ugh. Too many Gryffindors in a row.

Granger had made him look bad. It seemed now she was looking to point him out to the whole world. As if to say, "Look what the Malfoy bugger's doing!"

'Why do you bloody care?' he asked himself. It's not like there's ever been an agreeable moment between Slytherins and Gryffindors. But Draco knew why. As much as he didn't want to admit it, as he lay in bed, the fact taunted him. His popularity was dwindling. The whole school save the Slytherins didn't like him. He'd venture enough to say they hated him.

"Not that they ever _did_ like you," a voice scathingly replied. He half expected to find Granger looming over his shoulder, using that know-it-all brain of hers to get inside his thoughts. No…the voice was his. Draco fell asleep to the mocking persons in his head.

***

He woke up with the bedspread on the floor and sheets entangled between his legs. His damp pajamas clung to him. A hand went to his head. It was spinning and his hair was mussed.

He was playing a quidditch game. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. Gryffindor was ahead thirty to ten. It didn't look good--the Gryffindor defense was strong. Suddenly Harry'd gone into a dive. He rushed in to compete for the snitch.

"What did Malfoy do?" Hermione's voice rang clearly through the inter-com system. 

'What did I do?' he'd found himself thinking. 'I didn't do anything.' He stared up into the commentator's box. Granger's eyes were set with worry. Towards Harry. Draco looked back just in time to slam into Potter. Harry went flying and hit the side of the stadium, landing limp upon the ground.

"Foul play!" Lee's voice.

Laughter echoed through the stands. He was angry now. He didn't do anything! He never aimed for Potter! A red heat crept up his neck and burned down his back. For no reason he could find his palms began to sweat. In the dream he glanced back up to the box and there they were. Lee and Hermione lip-locked like there was no tomorrow.

He'd waken up then. What a shock! Disgusting! He didn't want to watch as the Mudblood made out with another Gryffindor scum.

Draco parted the curtains of his four-poster. His clock read 5:00 am. Fine. He wouldn't go back to sleep. Not that he could.

He found the fresh robes he'd layed out the night before and ran a comb through his baby blonde hair. He couldn't get through his daily routine without Granger's voice in his head. 

'You know what I think?'

No he thought. I don't want to know what you think. No one does, he added for good measure. But her voice continued relentlessly.

'I think it's all in your head. You're trying to blame someone for your bad boy Slytherin reputation. That's no one's fault but your own.'

That's not what I care about, he replied. Too late. Her voice left his head and never heard.

Boy. What a day he had ahead of him. Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. Both with Gryffindor. He could hardly wait.

((A/N: Whew. Done. I hadn't seen it before I completed chapter two, so I'll say it now. A 'thanks' to Stef who also reviewed this fic. Okay, cleared that up. Oh, and the 'bloody hell' Draco snarled is dedicated to my friend, Evan, who said I needed a few more of those in here. Hope this chapter was up to par. Four's coming soon. Promise.

`Talon))


	4. However, problems will arise, said the P...

What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 4-- "However, problems will arise," said the Pitch to the Snitch

He'd been acting strangely all through class. Usually the Slytherins were full of snide comments, especially during Care of Magical Creatures. But today Draco Malfoy remained quiet.

"That was strange," Harry said nonchalantly as they walked down the lawn back to the castle.

"Yah." Ron's reply. Hermione nodded. Something seemed to be on his mind. He looked troubled. And there were faint dark smudges under his eyes.

'You were looking that closely?!?' 

No! she screamed back to that voice. 

'Yes.'

Yes. she agreed, albeit reluctantly. The potions room slowly came into view.

'Where did the walk go?'

The cold of the classroom sent shivers up her arms. The musty smell affronted her senses after so much time in the great outdoors. She followed Harry and Ron past the rows of desks to the back. They gave into idle chatter in the wait for Snape to enter the room.

"And that dive when he went for the snitch…--" Harry's voice; reliving the Cannon's game.

_'Every other player does it, Mudblood. Everyone does it!'_

'Why is his voice in my head?' She shook it as if to get rid of any further offending Malfoy thoughts. But they persisted.

_'Every eye out there was on me because of you.'_

'Ugh. Go away.' Tingling sensations of heat crept up her neck. Her palms began to sweat. 'I shouldn't begin to feel guilty for doing my job! Why does he care if every eye's on him? Any other day he'd love it.' She fought the feeling vehemently.

However it didn't help matters to see Draco walk into the room. His usual saunter and 'I'm better than you' attitude were still not back. He didn't smile or make crude, sick jokes with the rest of the Slytherin jerks. In fact, he looked down right surly. His eyes were downcast and he looked about to sneer any time now. What was up?

Malfoy took a seat next to Pansy just in time. A rather snarky Snape strode purposefully into the room. "Exhibit A…" The class' attention followed his hand to the front table where magically appeared a large white cat. It seemed like a normal feline, but one eye was red, and green foam was pouring from its mouth. It was in a relaxed immobile state on the table. A few students laughed. Snape looked at them. Their laughs were muffled quickly.

"Who can tell me what is wrong with this cat?"

They knew better than to laugh a second time. Snape frowned and paced a bit faster at their ignorance. The bottom of his robes whipped around his ankles in a fury.

"This cat has been subject to a potion…"

"We don't study potions on animals," Draco muttered.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy. I didn't quite catch that." The Potions Master must've been in a terrible mood. He turned on his heel and sent the blonde boy a scathing glare. Draco rolled his eyes and continued glaring at the desk. Snape continued, "I hardly think your words have anything to do with this lesson, Malfoy. And next time do not bring your petty problems in with you. We don't need your lip."

Ron snickered slightly. Hermione cast him a strange look.

"Exhibit B…" Again they followed his hand to the table. This time a broken brown bottle appeared. "And C…" Now, a silver spoon. The tip was rusty and colored with a blood red liquid. "A two foot essay will be due next class. You will tell me what happened to the cat and how each exhibit contributed to the problem."

Pens scratched on quills.

"D'you know what's wrong, 'Mione?"

She whispered quickly, "Yes, Ron, I do."

"Well then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it wouldn't have mattered."

"Like bloody hell!" His voice rose at the prospect of writing twenty four inches worth of essay.

"Shhh!" Hermione glared daggers. The last thing she needed was Snape's foul attention on them.

"Miss Granger!" She looked to the front of the room. He wasn't there. Something in the corner of her eye. Snape was standing beside their table, baring down on them. "I suggest next time you help your incompetent friends _outside _the classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor!"

As he moved away from their table Hermione caught Draco giving his usual smirk. 

'I can't believe I felt _guilty_!"

But the smirk didn't last long, and Hermione noticed that too. Despite herself, she continually checked on him every five minutes. 

"'Mione!"

She quickly snapped back to reality. Her hand was raised, poised over their perfectly simmering cauldron.

"Watch what you're doing!" Harry reprimanded. "You nearly botched the whole job!"

Hermioned flushed pink. "Sorry." She accurately added the correct amount of chopped pickled toad's liver to their rather complex healing potion.

A moment later…

BAM!

"HERMIONE!" She waved the fumes out of her face. They stunk like rotten eggs. And dog turds. Gross!

"I'm sorry, 'arry!"

"Tell that to Snape!" he choked.

Snape stood behind her. "Yes, Miss Granger, pray tell the whole story. You'll have more than ample time during your week's detention with me. Tonight! 8:00!"

Hermione slammed her head on the table, now clear of smoke. _Why_ did she have to screw up the potion on Snape's worst day?

By the end of the hour, however, slightly less than half the class had a week's detention. She wasn't the only one who screwed up among the back-talkers and cheaters. The Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms would be slightly less crowded this week.

"Gee, I'm sorry, 'Mione," Ron began on their walk to lunch. Hermione gave him a questioning look. He continued, "You have to serve detention with Malfoy."

"What?"

"You didn't notice?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well I guess I couldn't after we had to start over the entire potion!"

"It was the highlight of the class!" Ron's spirits were unaffected by his friend's tart reply. "He added bat's blood when it called for essence of dragon's heart! Can't believe you didn't smell it!"

"Like vinegar and gasoline," smiled Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes. A week's detention with Malfoy. And half the rest of her potions class. What fun she would have.

***

Draco's mood did not improve at dinner that night. Not only would he be serving a week's detention from his own head of house!, but Hermione's voice would not leave his thoughts. The prat Mudblood teased and taunted him every time he turned a corner. Accusing him. With each disgusted face that met him walking down the halls, it accused him. And now he would be serving detention with her. Joy. Detention with the school know-it-all. He imagined the damn girl already completed Snape's essay. It seemed his problems kept mounting and mounting. 

He scowled down at his buttered corn. It stared back, expressionless. Figures.

***

Lavender, Parvati, Millicent, Pansy, Draco, Dean, Seamus, Crabbe, Goyle, and Hermione stood silently in front of Snape's desk. It was 8:01. Finally, he looked up from grading homework and regarded the students like they'd just come in.

"I have varying tasks for the lot of you. The punishment shall fit the crime." His piercing black eyes landed on Lavender and Parvati. "The girls…" He glanced at Millicent and Pansy, "All the girls are to report to Filch, whose careful eye will oversee the polishing of the Great Hall's floor. He has informed me there will be no talking." 

Hermione thought this was fine. She didn't have any trouble keeping quiet.

"Thomas, Finnigan, Crabbe, and Goyle will accompany Hagrid to the forest. He will have tasks each night."

"And what am I to do, Professor?" All were amazed Malfoy had the gall to think himself in high favor with Snape enough to speak out of turn.

"You, Mr. Malfoy," his name came out a blatant sneer, "will be brewing potions for the week until you learn to do it right. You are dismissed."

The males and females split respectively to their destinations. Dean and Seamus had matching unsure looks. Hermione gave them a reassuring glance that Hagrid would take care of them.

"Just one moment!" Hermione stopped in the doorway. Snape's voice cracked the air like a whip. "Granger, you're to remain with me as well. In case you haven't noticed, you and Mr. Malfoy have the similar disability in the handling of ingredients."

Hermione turned back into the room. What was she? Not female? He'd said all girls…But those were the ways of Professor Snape.

"Follow me, my two incompetents," he swiftly left the room in a swirl of cloak. They traversed with due speed. "You will be brewing a different potion each night in this room…--" Snape unlocked a door to an assumably unused classroom. It had been transformed into a miniature potions laboratory. "You may leave after you bring your successful potion to me." He all but pushed them into the room and let the door fall shut.

Draco and Hermione stood facing each other. Malfoy sneered. Hermione simply looked disgusted. She could easily produce potions each night. Whether she could survive with Malfoy was an entirely different matter.

((A/N: Apologies if this seemed a bit short. I know it only had three scenes. And probably its share of typos. But I was determined to finish it! And I did! Well, the chapter anyway…. What Snape said, "Exhibit A…" and a large white cat appearing was a huge joke between me and my sister. So credits to her for the idea when I was in desperate need of one. Thanks Ju! Hmmm…I think that's all to say for now. Can you believe it? A chapter without quidditch! Some may find it amusing that I had trouble writing the word "snarky" without my word processor shutting down. I eventually found a way to do it. Please review! More's a'comin'!

`Talon))


	5. Author's note sorry

Alrighty friends, I realize that none of us really like to read author's notes because they're dull and you want to read the story, not something personal about my life. Because we all have our own to live. 

However, I thought I'd be courteous and alert you that it may be a tad bit of a while before chapter five comes up because school started, and this week National Honor Society will start.

Good news though: I have a friend who plays cello, who really wants me to continue writing, so soon I shall, due to his persuasion. ::smiles:: Cellists rock…too bad violinists are better…j/k. All instruments kick *behind*.

Happy tidings 'til next we meet! And a cheerful 'huzzah!' for your next bad day.

`Talon

Thanks to violentdelight who spoils me with multiple reviews!


	6. Potion No 1

What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 5-- Potion No. 1

The room, though it appeared quite large before, shrunk. It wasn't large enough for the both of them. Hermione sighed.

"We best get started." Draco sneered. Hermione glared back. "Dare I even ask?"

"We're not working together," he made clear.

"I wasn't planning on it." She strode to the cauldron. Draco wanted to kick her. Using that annoying high-handed tone with him--he was her better! And she had such a look of set stubbornness, how he'd love to wipe it off of her face.

A vision of kissing a girl flashed in his mind. Curious, not believing his suspicions, he probed deeper. His envisioned face lifted from the female's and…

'Ugh!' he thought in disgust. _Why_ would he have fantasies of kissing Mudblood?

'Fantasy now is it, eh, Draco?' Damn that voice in his head.

'No.'

'But that's what you called it.'

'I called it nothing albeit disgusting.'

The voice laughed. He added it to his "Want to Kick" list.

Meanwhile Hermione had read the blackboard. They were each assigned a different potion. 'Funny…' she thought. 'There's only one cauldron.' She spared a glance to Draco. He seemed preoccupied. Maybe he wouldn't notice if she started without him. If he hadn't read the board yet, that was his fault. Goodness knows she didn't want to be stuck in this room with him any longer than necessary. Ingredients began finding themselves chronologically sitting on the table.

"Good. You make it and I'll get the grade."

Hermione didn't look up. "No, Malfoy. I'm making my potion. Then you can make yours."

"There's only one cauldron!"

She tossed her wild mane of hair over a shoulder. "Oh, come off it. We both know I'm the superior potions maker."

"You're a Gryffindor." He said the name like one would spit venom from a wound.

"With more brains than any Slytherin." Content with her lot, she resumed perusing the cupboards.

For once Draco had no retort. Hermione, having assembled all needed ingredients, began work. He conjured a chair and slumped down into a corner. Grumpily, he watched her.

She was like a machine. Did she have everything programmed into her? Each movement was skilled and precise; like watching a younger, female version of Snape. His lip curled. Disgusting. But Hermione, he was forced to admit, was prettier than a female version of their Potions Master. Instead of having overloads of grease, her hair bounced. It had a life of its own with a personified free will. And her eyes weren't black and sallow. They were bright, intelligent, and warm chocolate brown. Like hot cocoa during winter.

'Draco! What the bloody hell are you thinking?!?' If he weren't a Slytherin, he would have turned beet red.

Hermione didn't even look up from her work. 'She doesn't give one wit that you're in the room.'

'Why do I care?'

'Because you want her to.'

'I hate her.'

'You hate her indifference.'

'I don't care.'

'Or maybe you hate that she doesn't approve of you.'

'I don't need a Gryffindor's approval.'

The voice laughed then laughed. He really wanted to kick it.

Apparently the potion was simple, (for her), because when he next spared a glance toward her, she was filling a glass bottle and placing a stopper in it. Smiling, she told him, "Your turn."

"Are you going to clean it, Mudblood?"

With a flick of her wand it was done. He hated how she knew absolutely everything! Everything was so easy! Why couldn't she see the truth behind him…--

'So you do--' Draco tactfully cut off any further thought.

"G'night." She left the room and him to his thoughts.

*`*`*

((A/N: Sorry this is so short--I had it written even before I put that horrible author's note up…but I thought I would add more. Well, this should give you some more food for thought. ::smiles:: Thank you for the reviews! A big 'huzzah' for your next bad day, 

`Talon))


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